


Once More, With Feeling

by callunavulgari



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Awkward Conversations, Coda, Episode: s04e11, F/M, Family Dinners, M/M, Meeting the Parents, Minor Braeden/Derek Hale, Multi, Polyamory, Stilinski Family Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-03
Updated: 2014-09-03
Packaged: 2018-02-16 01:53:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2251464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callunavulgari/pseuds/callunavulgari
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The car is quiet now, eerily so, and Malia finally — <i>finally</i> — looks up at him, just as Stiles’ is letting his head drop into his cupped palms. She makes a questioning noise that has Stiles digging his fingers into his eyelids and rubbing vigorously, as if he can rub the memory of this having ever happened out of his brain. Then his dad makes it worse by saying, hesitantly, of all things, “Aren’t the two of you cousins?”</p><p>Nonplussed, Malia looks his dad full in the face, blinks, and says, “Derek’s dick isn’t the one I’m touching.”</p><p>“Oh my god,” Stiles moans.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Once More, With Feeling

**Author's Note:**

> So. [This happened.](http://callunavulgari.tumblr.com/post/96559619755) And basically I lost my shit and well, you can read those tags yourself if you want. In summation, I decided that what this scene really needed was some alternate OT3 universe where Derek, Malia, Stiles (and Braeden, kind of, but that's super new and they haven't quite broached the subject of Derek&Braeden and Derek&Malia&Stiles becoming Derek&Malia&Stiles&Braeden), are in a poly relationship and when the Sheriff decides to take out his son and his girlfriend, Malia balks and goes, "But what about Derek?" and it just goes from there.
> 
> Title because Stiles makes a horribly unfunny Buffy reference in this and well, it was that or a couple lines from Anya and Xander's "I'll Never Tell."

Stiles can easily say that he’s never thought of Derek meeting his dad in any sort of _official_ capacity. Sure, they’ve met before, first with the disastrous arrest that they absolutely _do not talk about_ and then later, once Stiles dropped the whole werewolf bombshell. He knows that they’ve worked together before — _remembers_ them working together, when Stiles’ body was walking around while piloted by a homicidal trickster spirit — but introducing Derek to his dad as his boyfriend? That is something that he hasn’t thought about.  
  
It’s still new between them, after all. Stiles can barely spare a thought for the future — their future? — much less entertain the idea of a ‘meet the parents’ situation. And besides, his dad’s got enough on his plate processing the supernatural thing. He’s just starting to really _get_ that Stiles’ girlfriend has actually been a coyote for a good portion of her life and what that means for the two of them, so why would Stiles fuck with that by trying to explain that yeah, his girlfriend _is_ pretty awesome, but hey, daddy-o, how much do you know about polyamorous relationships?  
  
That’s a bombshell that he’s not ready to drop quite yet.  
  
Which is why when his dad hustles him and Malia into the car, he’s too busy thinking about pizza and how much of a disaster this might turn out to be to wonder why Malia’s gone quiet and thoughtful in the back seat.  
  
“You okay back there?” his dad asks, and Stiles twitches, craning his neck around to see Malia frowning down into her lap. He cocks a head at her, questioning, but she isn’t paying attention to him, too busy picking at a wayward thread that’s coming unraveled near her wrist.   
  
His dad looks at him, face twisting into a puzzled frown, and Stiles shrugs. He has no idea what’s up with her. She’d seemed happy enough back in his room.  
  
Just when he’s starting to think that maybe he should crawl back there with her to make sure she’s not freaking out, her eyes snap up to theirs in the rearview. She gnaws her lip for a moment, worrying the skin there with thankfully human teeth, and asks abruptly, “Wait, what about Derek?”  
  
Stiles’ heart fucking _stops_. His palms get sweaty. He kind of feels like he’s going to puke.   
  
His dad gives him a quick confused look before his attention is back on her, still puzzled. “What about him?”  
  
Stiles turns fully, making a sharp cutting gesture in her direction. He’s trying to be subtle and hide the movement with the rest of his body, but judging by the unimpressed glance his dad slants his way, he’s failing at it. Malia though, isn’t paying him an ounce of attention, staring at Stiles’ dad with her head cocked, mirroring their earlier confused postures. “Well, he should be here too, shouldn’t he?”  
  
His dad’s frown deepens as he glances at Stiles again. “Why?” he asks, suspicious, and oh my god, Stiles was right. This night is going to be the _worst_ sort of disaster, and _not_ for the same reasons he’d initially suspected. This isn’t Malia blurting out some social faux pas. This is Malia spilling a secret that _feels_ bigger than werewolves and kanimas. This is Malia thinking that, god fucking forbid, Stiles has told his father about Derek and their relationship with him.  
  
She clearly still doesn’t notice Stiles miming imminent death, because she just goes, “Because he’s Stiles’ boyfriend?”  
  
 _Oh god._   
  
He’s going to die. If his dad doesn’t kill him, Derek will. Either way, there will be Death, and a lot of it.  
  
The car is quiet now, eerily so, and Malia finally — _finally_ — looks up at him, just as Stiles’ is letting his head drop into his cupped palms. She makes a questioning noise that has Stiles digging his fingers into his eyelids and rubbing vigorously, as if he can rub the memory of this having ever happened out of his brain.  
  
Then his dad makes it worse by saying, hesitantly, of all things, “Aren’t the two of you cousins?”  
  
And why couldn’t that have been one of the secrets Stiles was keeping from him? He peeks at them from between his fingers, already cringing.  
  
Nonplussed, Malia looks his dad full in the face, blinks, and says, “Derek’s dick isn’t the one I’m touching.”  
  
“Oh my god,” Stiles moans, reburying his face in his hands, just knowing that it’s burning bright red. He can feel the embarrassment choking him, and jesus, this is so much worse than he thought tonight was going to be. Just a night out with his dad and his socially stunted girlfriend, no big deal. The worst thing that could happen was another slip-up like the deer thing, and even that wasn’t too bad, considering his dad already knew Malia’s history.  
  
The words funny aneurysm are coming to mind, because Buffy is now incredibly relevant to his life, and it’s not going to be his dad whose brain explodes and leaves him dead on a couch somewhere, it’s going to be _Stiles_. He is going to drop dead from _sheer mortification_.  
  
The car is still quiet. Distantly, he realizes that somewhere along the line, his dad has pulled off onto the side of the road, because the engine’s just idling and they’re not moving, which means that his dad was so affected by this that he _needed to stop driving in case he crashed_.  
  
“Can we all pretend that the last fifteen minutes never happened?” he mumbles, wincing as he pulls his hands away.  
  
It’s worse than he thought. His dad is just staring at him blankly, like there’s something broken in his head. Maybe Stiles was wrong. Maybe this is a funny aneurysm moment, only it’s not going to be Stiles having one at all, which means it sure as fuck isn’t going to be funny and oh my god, why is his dad grinning now?  
  
Because he is. There’s a very familiar stubborn glint in his dad’s eyes and a wide grin on his face that _Stiles_ was wearing the last time he knew he was about to get what he wanted out of Derek, and fuck, this is the worst night ever.  
  
“Well in that case,” his dad says, grin still firmly in place as he guides the car into a U-turn. “I guess we should go pick up Derek.”  
  
 _Worst night ever._  
  
.  
  
Ever since Derek lost his wolfy senses, he’s been weird about opening doors. Stiles _knows_ that, which is why they adopted a super special knock for situations like these. He’ll still be freaking out, of course, because the proximity alarm would have already gone off, but the least Stiles can give him is their super special knock, and hope to all hell that Braeden isn’t around, because there’s weird threesomes, and then there’s whatever Derek’s got going on with Braeden.   
  
And he really, really, _really_ doesn’t want to have to drop another bomb. His dad already knows that he’s in a relationship with two people — two _Hales_ — he doesn’t need to know that Derek is also banging a total badass on the side. With his and Malia’s permission. Of course.  
  
Braeden, thankfully, is not there. When Derek pulls the door open, looking sleepy and tender with his hair all mussed like he’d been napping before they interrupted, Stiles kind of wants to crawl into the room with him and never come out. He wants to run his fingers through Derek’s hair and kiss him all over his stupid face and pretend that the last thirty minutes never happened. Instead, Stiles stay quiet as Derek looks between the three of them, confused and just a little bit wary.  
  
“So I hear you’re dating my son,” Stiles’ dad says, still with that air of dangerous humor, and Derek flinches, eyes going wide. Then his dad adds, “And possibly your cousin.”  
  
Stiles always thought that the expression ‘going paper white’ was just that, an expression. It was just a fancy way of saying that someone went super fucking pale, but no. Derek goes paper white, the blood draining from his face so fast that Stiles lunges forward to catch him in case he passes out.   
  
Derek looks at him, horrified, and Stiles returns the expression happily, because he _knows_ , okay. He fucking knows. This is terrifying.  
  
When they don’t move, Malia heaves a huge sigh and steps over the threshold of the door, greeting Derek with a punch to the shoulder and then, when Derek just turns the horrified expression on her, she gentles her touch, stroking his arm softly and giving them both an apologetic little smile.  
  
“Hey, so, do you still have those venison steaks in the freezer?” she asks, turning the smile on Stiles’ dad, who is still standing there and staring at all of them. At least the scary smile is gone. “Because those sound so much better than pizza right now.”  
  
Stiles shifts a little closer to Derek, and thinks about dropping the arm that’s still wrapped around the other man’s waist. On one hand, he probably should, because his dad keeps looking at that arm like he wants to forcibly remove it, but on the other hand, with the way the night is going, Derek might still pass out. He keeps the arm where it is.  
  
Derek looks at him, still panicked, but the look is ebbing with every second that they keep touching him, until finally he sighs, and says, “Sure, come in. I’ll start defrosting them.”  
  
It’s awkward. It can’t _not_ be awkward, sitting around Derek’s loft as Derek himself fusses in the kitchen with the steaks. Malia tries though, making small talk with his dad that is thankfully not too mortifying, until Stiles finally gives up and wanders into the kitchen to help Derek.   
  
“Sorry about this,” he says quietly, wrapping his arms around Derek’s waist and resting his forehead against the very center of the triskelion, his voice thick with the apology. “Dad offered to take us out to dinner and Malia accidentally spilled the beans. I know that you didn’t want this.”  
  
Derek snorts and turns in his grip, until they’re facing each other. “This was going to happen sooner or later, Stiles. It’s fine.”  
  
“You’re not mad?”  
  
Derek rolls his eyes again and leans forward, dropping a quick kiss to his lips. “I’m a little terrified that your dad is going to shoot me, but no, I’m not mad.”  
  
“Oh,” Stiles says, and drags him down into another kiss.  
  
.  
  
It’s not until they’re sitting down to eat that Stiles realizes, crinkling his nose up and saying, accusingly to his dad, “Hey, you were supposed to take us _out_ to eat, not make my boyfriend cook for us.”  
  
His dad just looks at him, raises his eyebrows meaningfully, and says, “Your _girlfriend’s_ favorite food is deer, Stiles. We really weren’t going to find that around town. We’ll go out for pizzas next time.”  
  
Stiles’ heart gives a little startled thump at that, but because he doesn’t know when to leave well enough alone, goes, “But Derek doesn’t like Italian.”  
  
His father sighs, long suffering, and looks at Derek, who is chewing slowly and if Stiles knows the hunch of those shoulders at all, trying hard to look like he’s not freaking out. “I suppose your favorite food is deer, too?”  
  
Stiles snorts and says, “Naw dad, _Malia_ likes Bambi. Derek’s got a thing for Thumper.”  
  
He isn’t quite watching for a reaction, but he gets one anyways as Derek swallows hard, and says in a soft voice, “I actually like Thai food.”  
  
Stiles blinks, says, “I didn’t know that.”  
  
Derek shrugs, looking slightly uncomfortable. “There was this place right down the street from our apartment in New York. Laura— it was her comfort food, so we had it a lot. She used to say that she could eat nothing but pad thai for the rest of her life and be happy.”  
  
Malia and his dad are both quiet, which Stiles is thankful for, because that… Derek never talks about Laura. Sure, over the years some details have kind of bled through the cracks, but Derek never brings her up like this. Not on purpose. Stiles just stares at Derek, and he doesn’t know what his face is doing, but whatever it is, it’s probably incredibly sappy, because Derek gives him this small, hesitant smile that makes his heart start thumping double time—  
  
“Thai, it is,” his dad says, somehow not shattering the moment completely. “Now, I’m not going to threaten you with a shotgun, Derek, but I will say that Stiles doesn’t just get his creativity from his mother. I’ll let you wonder what that’s going to mean for you, either of you—” His dad throws a pointed look in Malia’s direction. “—break his heart.”  
  
Stiles drops his head into his hands again, and thinks about Derek’s quiet smile, Malia’s contentment, and how deer doesn’t taste too horrible. He guesses that it probably could have gone a lot worse.  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Come visit me on tumblr! My [writing blog](http://callunawrites.tumblr.com/) and [my primary one](http://callunavulgari.tumblr.com/).


End file.
